Musical Escapades
by Death and Destruction Co
Summary: People wander around singing. The Phantom acts all evil and well...Phantomish. Christine has problems. Raoul is a fop. Life in the Opera Populaire gets a little whacked sometimes.
1. Chapter 1

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! Due to the major, cough cough, success of "Drunk" we thought we would do another story. Thank you to all our friends, minions, slaves, Altar Servers, Altar Guards and fans of the huge hit "Drunk". You guys are gold! Well not literally. It's more of a metaphorical expression.

The conversations in this particular story are best read aloud in song. If you want you can even do a different voice for each character!

**Disclaimer:** _We recently acquired POTO on Ebay for a great price! Okay, so we sort of tortured it out of Joel Schumacher and Andrew Lloyd Webber. More like threatened, actually. But we didn't threaten Joel Schumacher and Andrew Lloyd Webber to their faces – it was more quiet mutterings of how we'd LOVE to own POTO (or POO for some people) behind Joel Schumacher and Andrew Lloyd Webber's backs. So technically we don't own POTO, we just want it. Badly. Does anyone have a completed super weapon? Ours isn't finished yet…_

_No fops were mortally injured during the making of this chapter, unless it was for research. If they were – they're bodies have been cut up into little pieces, burned and buried under a road. So don't worry!_

_RAOUL BASHING!_

_This story is called:_

**Musical Escapades**

_But may also be known as:_

**In which we Begin Another Amazing Adventure with Death and Destruction, who May or May Not Appear in this Chapter or Any Others For That Matter, Christine Mysteriously Uses a Toilet WITHOUT Any Toilet Paper in It, Raoul the Fop is Stepped on, Meg Appears at the Wrong Moment and Christine is Lead to the Secret and Extremely Cool Lair Through an Amazingly Overlooked Secret Passage…and Throughout the Entire Chapter, most Characters usually speak in Song, as is Tended to Happen in Musicals…**

_(DD- 'When is it going to start! I'm tired of watching commercials and credits!' __Death - stuffs Destruction's mouth full of popcorn 'Shut up and watch the movie! It's about to start!'crackling noises and slurping from behind them Death: pulls out longbow 'Right, who did that?' DD: pulls out bazooka from coat and loads it, balancing it on the seat behind her 'Moohahah!' dead silence Death: 'T'hat's what I thought!' both weapons slowly and disappointedly put away)_

...Crickets...

Raoul was running around the Opera House on some kind of non-essential errand, singing to himself, which was quite a common occurrence so the staff had learned to overlook it and not stare at him strangely. They just blocked their ears and stared at the ground. Raoul thought they were just overcome with empathy and really **felt** his songs; even when they didn't make sense.

Suddenly he spotted a mirror and halted immediately stopping to check his appearance and make sure his hair was securely tied in its ribbon. When he wasn't satisfied with his look he took his hair out, fluffed it around for a bit and retied it. He had been there for about ten minutes when he spotted Christine entering a door behind him.

The fop immediately took this as a chance to try and woo her so followed behind the young opera singer. Unfortunately she had entered the women's bathroom and was already locked inside a cubicle. The bathroom was quite a nice place – it even had a high ceiling with wooden beams perfect for running across in a big, black cloak and a mask. Raoul had neither, so ignored it and instead stood outside Christine's cubicle.

"_Christine,"_ he sang, _"What are you doing?"_

"_I'm in the toilet Raoul, my love,"_

Christine replied, also singing, because of course they were opera singers. Or at least Christine was. Or shall become extremely shortly. Singing came as sort of a second language to singers.

"_Do you really want to know?"_

Raoul blanched,_ "Ah, no! That's alright, Christine, my darling!"_

He was about to back away when Christine suddenly called out horrified.

"_Raoul! Raoul! I need some toilet paper! Oh dear me!"_

Raoul decided that he could still woo her. With toilet paper!

"_What type would you like…Christine, my darling?"_

"_Maybe some Kleenex, or perhaps Rolly…I can't decide!" _

Raoul raced around the other cubicles trying to find the desired paper, which was as useful as teaching a cheese weasel to dance.

"_I can only find Home Brand! Oh dear me…Christine my darling." _

He cried out through the door, only to be spurned.

"_I'm allergic! What were you thinking! Go and by more, Raoul! NOOOWWWW!"_

Raoul was almost crying by the time she finished on an extra high note, which Christine held for almost a minute. Whether he was crying out of sorrow or pain will never be found out – it could be both. Fop.

"_Please, forgive me Christine, my darling! I'll go and buy the best for you!"_

"_You better!"_ Christine warned,

"_Or I'll call Erik! Yes I'll call Erik! And he'll pound your foppish aaaaasssss!"_

Obviously, Christine wasn't happy with Raoul. You could also deduce that the terribly high note she finished on was horrifying and punishment for our sensitive fop enough. Our gentle audience must remember, that this was after the lovely performance where Christine was dressed up as a snowball and sang that delightful song about people loving each other and remembering each other and various other lines we couldn't hear or understand. Or indeed bother to remember.

"_Hold on Christine, my darling!"_ sung Raoul, trying to save his foppish ass,

"_I'll be back in a minute!"_

The elevator and "call waiting" music we all know so well was put on, booming from the hidden speakers the Phantom had hidden somewhere in the ceilings for such purposes. We don't want the waiters feeling BORED now do we?

**Several minutes later**

Raoul returned to the bathroom several minutes later as he just couldn't resist that new ribbon! It was the perfect length! So he bought it in five different colours.

"_I'm back!"_ He called out to Christine,

"_Christine, my darling! I have Rolly! Lots and lots of Rolly! Rolly!"_

Christine was overjoyed, _"Oh, thank God! I've had to hold on!"_

Raoul situated himself outside her cubicle and held up a roll of toilet paper.

"_Here it comes, over the top! Be prepared, Christine, my darling!"_

Immediately following this statement came a rather loud chorus of randoms, whose voices came out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly.

Randoms: _"Yes, our teeth and ambitions are bared! BE PREPPPARRRREEED!"_

Raoul threw the roll of paper with a strange wrist-flicking technique that flung the paper at the door. It then rebounded off the door at around shoulder height.

"_Raoul that was a girly throw! You missed…by a mile!"_

Christine could never give up being an opera singer and become a cheerleader. She just didn't have it in her.

"_#$&!" _Raoul shouted.

He must have Christine wooed soon! Or that freaky Angel of Music would corrupt her!

"_I mean, here it comes again Christine, my darling! Be prepared!"_

Immediately the random voices came back, as though summoned by a mysterious and all-powerful force.

Randoms: _"I know that your powers of perception…are as wet as a warthog's backside. But thick as you are PAY ATTENTION! My words are a matter of pride!"_

Raul missed again and Christine felt inclined to point out this fact as if it wasn't obvious to everyone.

"_Oh Raoul! You missed again!"_

She suddenly had an idea!

"_Look, just come in and give it to me or we'll be here forever!"_

"_Good idea Christine, my darling!"_ he sung.

But then again, he's almost always singing isn't he. Strange fellow…

"_Shall I keep my hand at the level of my eyes?"_

"_I think that's a good idea Raoul, my love! Jolly good!"_

Before anyone else figures it out, no, "jolly good" is not a French expression. Why use it then, you ask? Dunno. The authoresses are Australian.

Raoul hid his eyes with the hand that was holding the paper and opened the door with the other. It creaked mysteriously. The hand that is – Raoul must have arthritis from all the cheque signing that he does.

(We can't describe to you the scene in the cubicle in much detail because that would gross you out and up the rating considerably. We also never did look in the cubicle. For mind health reasons, you see.)

Raoul kept muttering to himself as he slowly and dramatically opened the door.

"_I'll keep my hand at the level of my eyes…my hand at the level of my eyes…By God Christine…my darling! Quick! Take it! Before I faint!"_

Raoul fainted and fell to the floor of the cubicle at Christine's feet. She quickly moved her feet further away from the disgusting (and now germ covered) fop.

"_Raoul! Raoul! Wake up!"_ She…sung.

"_Oh fine, but remember to keep your hand at the level of your eyes!" _

Voices in the background murmured, _"Level of your eyes, your eyes, eyes." _It seemed the random choir was back with a vengeance, seeing as how the fop was now down for the count.

Christine shrugged and covering her hand with toilet paper, placed Raoul's hand over his eyes.

Suddenly, and quite inexplicably the Phantom of the Opera Overture played loudly, seemingly coming from the ceiling. Probably from the speakers, I'd imagine. Unless of course there's an organ and an orchestra hidden up there. The Phantom is a sneaky fellow. We can't put anything past him. Not even stretching over him to put letters in a postbox. No indeed. Nothing can be put past this man.

Christine sung loudly, _"The Phantom of the Opera is here! Inside the bathroom!"_

She paused. Somehow that line would never sound as impressive and Gothic as "inside my mind." But one must make allowances for the circumstances. They are, indeed, in a bathroom.

The random voices in the background sung softly,_ "Inside…the bathroom!"_

The pause seemed to indicate they didn't think it was quite as impressive either.

A deep, scratchy and really quite scary voice shouted, "Sshh! Turn down the music! Sssh! I'M TRYING TO BE SUBTLE! I have no chance of being subtle with this overture following me around! The kitchen, the bedroom and now the toilet! Just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

His tone of angsty tortured anger had quite a remarkable effect. The overture was instantly turned down and a record player suddenly, and quite inexplicably, fell from the shadows that darkened the ceiling and hit the floor with a loud crash, smash and flash.

A distinct voice muttered, "Shite." And another said, "Well that was nuss!" (Look down bottom for definition of nuss to our unwary viewers)

Christine and the owner of the deep, scratchy, scary voice disregarded it since strange voices were an everyday occurrence around the Opera Populaire. Raoul disregarded it because, well he was still unconscious.

The Phantom, complete in his mask and big, black cloak (which allowed him to run along the rafters) leaped down from wherever he was hiding and stood on Raoul as if he wasn't there. He was obviously trained on how to act in public well.

"Hello, Christine."

The voices in the background returned once again,

"_Christine, Christine, Christiiine…"_

The Phantom snapped his gaze to wherever the random voices were hiding.

"Shut up," he said irritably. Not singing, amazingly.

"_Shut up, shut up, shut uuuuuppppp…"_

The Phantom growled. There was a collective, though rather musical gulp from the random voices and they were silent. Apart for the odd cough, sneeze and snoggly sound that always issues from choirs in between songs, of course.

Raoul was awake now, having been disturbed from his dream about bunnies and cheese weasels by the nice man standing on top of him, that nice man that also happened to be mildly psychotic, amazingly handsome and extremely intimidating. Oh, he was also the evil and deadly and mysterious Phantom of the Opera, of course.

"_Aaahh!"_

Raoul screamed in a high-pitched voice,

"_I'm being squashed by a masked madman!"_

Yes indeed, dear friends. Raoul was still singing, which is quite clever, as the Phantom was still standing on his diaphragm.

The Phantom replied, "Shut up, fop."

And stamped his steel toed boots on a rather sensitive male place. Raoul started crying.

Fop.

Meg, a young blonde girl, who is randomly introduced in the beginning and no one has ANY idea who she is, entered. Because you can't rely on Madame Giry's introductions. Woman's got a voice like a bad French-accented, decapitated chook. Yes, Meg then entered, seemingly not noticing the Phantom of the Opera or the squished fop underneath him.

"_Where in the world have you been hiding? Really you were perfect! I only wish I knew your secret! Who is your great teacher?"_

The Phantom managed to strike a pose and flash a cheesy smile in her direction while standing on Raoul. Said fop was still crying.

Christine took Meg's hands in her own,

"_Meg, you're in the wrong scene! I'm on the toilet in case you haven't noticed!"_

Meg looked around and nodded her head, bobbing up and down like a mating pigeon until Christine grabbed her head in both hands and stopped her,

"_Sorry…I'll just wait outside…"_

The Phantom, upset that he hadn't been noticed, sung scathingly,

"_You do that." _

Sung scathingly. Say that out loud, readers. Sounds impressive, don't it?

Meg then noticed just who else was in the bathroom with her and Christine, except for Raoul because he wasn't at eye level,

"_The Phantom of the Opera is there!"_

Everyone else (including Raoul who squeaked, rather than sung) sung,

"_We know!"_

Meg agreed, "Oh. Okay, that's basically my entire job in this musical – pointing him out when it's obvious and commenting on your outfit! I'll just GO then!" Meg walked outside in a huff. Or rather accompanied with a huff. Or expelling a huff as she did so. Or maybe it followed her out? We may never know…

Erik suddenly asked Christine,

"_Are you past the point of no return? Have you finished yet? I'd wait outside but the fop is blocking the door!"_

This, for future reference, was sung very strongly and well, putting Raoul's voice to absolute shame.

"_Shut the door!"_ she sung to him in reply,

"_Angel of Music, you delight me – just not now! I have to go!"_

"_Rightio then! I know when I'm not wanted!"_

Sung the Phantom, dragging Raoul out and shutting the door.

Christine was ever thankful,

"_Thank you so much, Angel of Music! My protector! Etc, etc, etc!" _

What? It rhymes with protector, doesn't it?

She then sighed in relief. You may draw your own conclusions.

The Phantom and Raoul soon shouted/sung,

"_By God Christine ("my darling", _added Raoul just to annoy the Phantom_) What are you doing?"_

"Erm…nothing!" Christine said loudly. Some strange noises and groans then came from the cubicle. Not a pretty site in there!

Raoul called out to her, holding his nose,

"_Christine, Christine, don't think that I don't care but every deodorant and toilet cleaner should be used on you now!"_

Fop, yes he is most definitely a fop.

Erik was trying to hold his nose through his mask;

"_I'll see you at six in the sewers or rather, underground canals to make it sound more impressive! My laaaair to be exact! I'll even come and pick you up!"_

Christine responded_, "I'll be there my sexy tutor…I mean Angel of Music…la la…"_

Raoul objecting to the 'sexy tutor' business, said "Hey!" and walked into a door, dropping unconscious. Erik sniggered for a moment, swirled his cloak (a very good cloak swirl too) and disappeared.

Meg burst in again, slamming Raoul behind the door and against the wall, which appeared to be painful from the way he was crying again.

"_The Phantom of the Opera is_…not here! Damn!"

Christine and Meg walked back from the toilets towards the back stage area. Meg began to sing again and Christine could do nothing but listen. Well actually she could do many things but only one at a time. Not very good at multi-tasking, this one.

"_Your face! Christine, it's white! You're wearing a white dress with…ooh…I don't know, cream lace. Nice stockings. Your hair is out and your eyes are brown! You're about…ye high and weigh…I'm not sure…fifty kilos…maybe more! Your legs are stumpy. You're going to get a pimple soon – use Clearasil! Your nose is slightly curved and you have a rather dumb expression. Your intelligence must be fairly low seeing as you're a ballerina and also dumb enough to run off with your hot Angel. Oh, Raoul is a fop!"_

Christine then began to sing about her Angel of Music,

"_Angel of Music, he's so sexy! I only heard his voice for many years! Who is this Angel whom I reckon is my dead father?" _

"_Who is this Angel? This Angel of Music?" _Meg sang with gusto. She doesn't get to sing a lot though, so we shall forgive her for the time being.

"_Obviously I'm not coping with his death!"_

Christine looked rather thoughtful, hungry, sad and murderous all at the same time.

"_I think you're quite obsessed…"_

"_He's all around me!"_

"_You're starting to scare me!"_

"_Hi daddy! What's up?"_ sung Christine, to her shadow.

"_Oh God! She's insane!"_

"_I need to sneeeeeze!"_

And with that horrifying last high-pitched note from her obviously schizophrenic friend, Meg ran off to some other place in the Opera Populaire. Christine gushed a mighty, "ACHOO!" and stood still, wondering where the heck she was.

A voice sung out from the darkness,

"_Christine – your Angel of Music is here! Come to your Angel of Music!" _

Christine shook a Rolex out of her puffy sleeve. "Six already?"

The Phantom, because of course it was he, led Christine through the kitchens, while holding onto her hand, never letting her go since he knew her weakness with parfait. The cooks looked at them strangely but he knew he could kill them later. Christine followed him with her mouth slightly open, a vacant expression on her face similar to the one she usually wore. She didn't actually look very pretty, smart or deserving of his attention. Erik waved an arm around blindly, trying to see through the fog that had randomly appeared all of a sudden. However, he was undeterred. Fogs were no match for swirly black cloaks and white masks. Or so he thought.

Erik hummed the Overture while groping around for the door to the pantry. Having found it, he led Christine into the pantry and looked around the various foodstuffs. "I could have sworn it was here somewhere! Ah! Here we go!"

He pulled on a saltshaker with large skull designs on it and the floor disappeared.

As they were falling the Phantom shouted, "There was supposed to be stairs!"

Christine, not having an intelligible or intelligent answer to this, merely screamed.

_DD: That sucked!_

_Death: You helped write it!_

_DD: I did? Then it was stupendous! I always knew it would be a hit_!

For our unwary viewers, Nuss means nothing suss in a more compact and paper-saving way.

The end! A one-shot? Another chapter? The choice is up to you! But you can only make that choice if you review! Also, "Drunk" fans may suggest themes for the upcoming chapters of "Drunk" either in this story or in a "Drunk" review. Thanks for reading!

From your masters or rather mistresses Death and Destruction.

BTW, if anyone wants to become Official Minions of Death and Destruction Co, with a separate job for Death minions and Destruction minions, you may apply within a review. Death's minions shall be named: The _Horsemen of the Apocalypse_ and Destruction's minions: _The Legions of Terror. _On that note, all Horsemen MUST have a horse, otherwise they wouldn't be horsemen. The horse must have a long name and short one. For example, Death's black horse is called Eve of the Apocalypse and, for short, Bob.

To apply, simply answer these simple questions:

_What is your name? (must be a cool one worthy of mention within the ranks of the Horsemen or theLegions of Terror.Long unintelligible drabblish names are acceptable. We have a few ourselves.)_

_What is your purpose on this earth? (must have something to do with death, destruction and general havoc and chaos. No fops need apply. Ones with sensitive stomachs need not apply either.)_

_What is your weapon of choice? (must be skilled in the manipulation of this weapon. Weapon must be impressive-looking. Note: Suicide bombers aren't considered impressive. The weapon can be anything EXCEPT gas chambers, giant nuclear warheads capable of taking out Planet Earth or the super weapon we are constructing as we speak...)_

_What makes you want to wrench someone's head off and feed it to them? (must be an imaginative answer. None of this "sympathy for others" and "noble self-sacrifice". Must be written with passion and true anger.)_

_Are you a spork worshipper and do you think giant stingrays are cute? (two random questions that have quite a lot to do with Death and Destruction's interests and not a lot to do with being a minion. So act interested and properly respectful.)_

_Do you have a witty or amusing quote you quote regularly at opportune moments?_

_(can be anything. Take inspiration from Destruction's favourite quote: "Are you dead yet?" and Death's favourite quote: "Never underestimate the power of the insane." Note: these quotes are copywrited and cannot be used as a quote.)_

_Can you laugh evilly or do you require lessons? (Laughing evilly is quite fun and rather intimidating. Those who require lessons will be instructed on how to laugh/snigger/cackle/chuckle evilly and yet remain aware of their surroundings - an important part. Many an evil person has beeen thwarted while laughing evilly and not noticing the change in their surroundings.)_

We shall judge accordingly and either add you to our ranks OR blow you up.

Have a nice day.

**Death and Destruction Co.**


	2. Chapter 2

Well hello! We are back once again to add another chapter to this seemingly unloved and unread parody on POTO…BUT lets move on to the disclaimer, shall we? (Thanks for reviewing, **Bob,** Death's faithful horse who mysteriously learned how to use a computer, **Yami Moh, The Knights of Ni, Gabi, Steve, Jesse **and **Yami Wah**!)

**Disclaimer**: _We own nothing, well hardly anything…but when we rule the world we will, in effect, own everything in the world! However, that glorious, aforementioned day has yet to pass and until it does we don't own POTO, the Lion King, the Sound of Music or anything else of importance for that matter._

_This story is called:_

**Musical Escapades**

_But may also be known as:_

**In Which We Find Out Just What Happened to All the Toilet Paper and Why All of It Was Replaced With Home-Brand, But Somehow Missing out on Christine's Cubicle, as a Devious Prank, Erik's Giraffe is Introduced and he Poles Vigorously, Christine's Vacant Expression Appears to be Permanently Fixed, the Phantom gets Confused with the Musical he's In, and two Psychotic, Temporary Pyromaniacs Attempt to Burn Down Erik's Lair Even Though it's Surrounded by a Lake. Throughout all of this, Most People at Most Occasions Sing, apart from the Pyros, who simply Sing Exaggeratedly, which I Suppose Doesn't Really count As Real Singing…Oh, and Raoul as Usual is a Fop.**

_RAOUL BASHING!_

_Why you should R&R_: _If you (meaning anyone not affiliated with D&D Co. on a personal basis) do not review we shall NOT continue "Drunk" until such a time when we feel properly loved, respected and not so depressed because as I write this we have almost 30 hits and no reviews from people we don't know. Yes, it's drastic but it satisfies our primal needs, that is to feel loved and reviews do just the trick! Who shall give in first? (Shifty eyes) Moohahahahaha! Ahem. Mooha…_

…….._hee hee dots! ……_

_Ahem, cough cough…_

The Phantom and Christine fell through the darkness. And fell and fell. And fell and fell. They were falling. Christine had given up screaming and singing pretty soon and Erik had retrieved a newspaper from somewhere inside his cloak and had read up to the sports section by now. Reading about people falling isn't very interesting though so lets move on to something else while they…fall.

…

Hysterical giggles came from a large and tastefully decorated island in the middle of a lake. It was, of course, Erik's lair. Two young, psychotic, temporarily pyromaniacs ran around throwing rolls of toilet paper everywhere as if it was Halloween. And it very well could be but do the French even celebrate Halloween?

"Trick or treat! SMELL MY FEET! Give me soooooomething good to eat! If you don't! I don't care! I'LL PULL DOWN YOUR UNDERWEAR!" They sang over-exaggeratedly. Oh I tell you, it was painful.

Then again Death and Destruction are Australian…so maybe just compared to French opera standards it was painful….something to ponder, oh devoted fans…

The dynamic duo came to a halt and rested on a swan shaped bed already liberally covered in toilet paper. It was really quite gothic looking underneath all that toilet paper. You just couldn't see it…through all the toilet paper.

"Wasn't it funny when Christine used the only cubicle without toilet paper!" reminisced Death.

"Yeah, it was a very inventive way to prank her!" replied Destruction

"And covering Erik's lair with toilet paper – ingenious DD!"

"I tend to have good ideas." Gushed Destruction, pleased that she wouldn't be threatened with death in the near future.

"DD! Look!" cried Death

The two focused on some hastily construced CCTV monitors that showed the Phantom and Christine about to end their falling experience.

Destruction smiled connivingly, her devious little mind at work, "We should be there to greet them," she said, looking at her favourite spork. However, she had to look around Death to see it…so that ruined the dramatic effect. Death always seems to ruin dramatic effects by being in the way.

"Yes," agreed Death, "We should…"

…

Erik and Christine were falling. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, they landed in a boat on an underground canal. Christine decided to sit at the bow of the boat and look vacantly into the distance while the Phantom began poling the boat down the canal. Almost on cue, came the thunderous organ notes of the Overture, hidden somewhere, once again, in the ceiling. Christine sat quietly and the Phantom poled vigorously with his cool gothic pole for, well…poling. The boat ride would have gone on normally enough until Christine decided it was time for a bit of a sing-along. After all, they were in an opera. Or rather, underneath it. And we all now know how fond opera singers are of singing! So she proceeded.

"_In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came,"_

Christine sang

"_that voice that calls to me and speaks my name!"_

"_Christine…la la la!"_ The Phantom sung with love for the vacantly expressed woman who had no more intelligence than a cheese weasel's left nostril.

"_And do I dream again?"_ She continued.

"_Yes!"_ The Phantom put in helpfully.

"_For now I find, the Phaaaantom of the Opera is there…inside the gothic boat right behind me!"_

The random voices, (yes, they are back again) sung in the background, _"Right behind you!"_ and the Phantom got annoyed and glared. There was hasty silence, that is, silence that came hastily.

A loud, Indian accented voice pointed out from the rafters of the canals (they are everywhere!) "Gondola! It's called a gondola! Gondo- _waaargh_…"

It seemed whoever it was had been silenced quite painfully. Or perhaps he was singing and the words got stuck in his throat. Either way, the voice was gone. So let us trouble ourselves no more about it. The malicious chuckle that came out of the vacant space where once the Indian voice had occupied, was, of course, ignored.

Christine waited patiently for the Phantom to sing. She barely even blinked in her intensity, but then again she was rather vacant so it's possible she simply zoned out again. The Phantom meanwhile was caught up in his vigorous poling. He poled vigorously.

"_Sing!"_ the random voices shouted, although musically, trying to get his attention.

The Phantom looked a little lost for a moment then begun as if to show those random voices that he knew what he was doing! We never doubted for a second.

"_Sing once again with me, our strange duet!"_

Christine appeared highly affronted that he called her strange; he, after all was the mask-wearing madman!

"_My power over you grows stronger yet!"_ The Phantom poked Christine with a voodoo doll he had procured from somewhere inside his cloak and she writhed! Writhed, I say! She didn't bother to see where the agony was coming from though. She just writhed. Always one to make the best of a bad situation was Christine.

"_And though you turn from me to glance behind!"_ Christine almost fell out of the boat trying to look behind him.

"_The Phaaaaaaantom of the Opera is there…in the gothic boat right behind you!"_

"_Right behind you!"_ The random voices were back! Oh well…

The Indian accented voice was back too, "Gondola!"

_"Gothic boat!" _Christine retorted musically

"Gondola!"

_"Gothic boat!" _

"Gondola!"

_"Gothic boat!" _

"Gondola!"

_"Gothic boat!" _

A strangely familiar yet unrecognisable voice then called out, "Well i think it's a conoe!"

There was silence for a moment, except for the sound of the Phantom poling.

The Phantom chose this moment, the one after the silence that is to add, "Well i think it's a...i have a cool gothic pole! For poling!"

With that comment the argument ceased because no one tries to argue with the Phantom and risk getting Punjabbed. That is, strangled with his Punjab lasso.

The Phantom helped Christine out of the boat because she had tripped on her slutty night gown and almost fell into the water when she tried to stand. He led her to his pet giraffe Bertie whom he had known for many years. And what a noble steed Bertie was! Twice as useful as any horse, I'd say! You could use him as a ladder, a clothesline, a railing, a battering ram! The uses were endless!

"This," he said, slapping the giraffes' side fondly, "is Bertie!"

"Oh." Was all Christine said and if you listened closely just then you could almost hear two voices cough, "Cheese weasel." In her direction. Naturally.

The Phantom helped Christine into the saddle and led the giraffe by the reins. As they plodded along Bertie hit his head several times on some low arches. He bore, however, the pain in noble silence, although his angry little eyes were fixed on the incompetent masked madman who was leading him and his tongue waved around threateningly in the air, promising revenge.

At one point the Phantom called out to Christine, "You'll learn to love this place Christine! Just don't look at the human excrement, or the rats…or the bodies and you'll be fine!"

Christine, however, couldn't hear him as she was clinging to Bertie's neck, trying not to fall off, which could have happened several times. It didn't help the giraffe's neck had already been carefully oiled and covered with slippery substances by two psychotic pyromaniacs.

"_Those who have seen your face," _Christine suddenly began, _"draw back in fear!"_

There was a collective gasp and a shuffle of feet as the random voices had moved back in fear.

"_I am the mask you wear!"_

What a wonderful metaphorical statement. Personally, we didn't think she was capable of it – it must be scripted!

The Phantom raised his eyebrows, highly confused and sung,

"_It's me they hear,"_

and still looked confused. Who told Christine to say that! It makes no sense! He's already got a mask!

"_My spirit and your voice…"_

"_Your spirit and my voice…"_

They both sung loudly,

"_In one combined! The Phaaaaaantom of the Opera is there…beside the giraffe!" _

Now there's a good line! Good enough to immortalize within Andrew Lloyd Webber's lyrics for all eternity and internity too!

It was at this moment that Christine fell off the giraffe, which then galloped off somewhere else. Faint giggling was present, which isn't surprising since it was funny and even the Phantom had worked his face into a strange expression to keep from laughing.

He helped her to her feet, grabbed a torch and swung it around dramatically. He then wrote Phantom with the torch – you know how if you move it fast enough you can write with it – and singed Christine's hair. She didn't notice and her vacant expression hasn't changed at all.

The Phantom led the unresponsive Christine, who now resembled a fireball as her hair exploded into flames, aided by petrol which fell amazingly from the sky and poured all over her hair, along the passageway, stepping over dead bodies, around rats and through patches of human excrement. This bothered the Phantom little as he was wearing stylish black gumboots, but he took secret amusement in watching Christine's dainty white slippers go a distinct poo-brown colour and smell. A couple of minutes later though, the Phantom was thoroughly bored.

His lair was still extremely far away and Christine was being boring. He lit the passageway ahead of them with his torch, and turned back every few seconds to see if Christine had done anything interesting yet. The head-turning was obviously going to end in tears. And it did. One of the golden moving hands that appeared in the corridor but are, surprisingly enough, never seen again, smacked him over the head with the torch. The Phantom swore loudly and dropped his own torch, which went out. So there was a couple of minutes of darkness, in which there was much muffled swearing, evil giggling and staggering footsteps. Finally, our masked friend wrestled a torch away from another hand, nearly choking to death as the hand grabbed the cloak fastened around his neck in revenge, and moved on. Christine still hadn't done anything interesting in that exciting period of time. She just followed with large eyes, resembling a deer transfixed by headlights on a car that was about to throw its body into squishy blood-and-guts oblivion.

"Sing for me!" The Phantom demanded, preferring Christine's annoying voice to the boringness of the corridor and the torch and the infrequent evil laugh. Christine began willingly enough, but didn't have enough brainpower to make up any words, so she used the traditional 'ah' instead.

So it came out as, _"Ahhaha aaahhhhaa ahahha ahh ahh aahhhhh!"_

And so, thinking this a fun way to pass the time, he continued to prompt her to sing, growing more psychotic and possessive-sounding every time, until it turned to "Sinnnnnnng for meeeeeee moohahaha eeeeeeee!"

At this, Christine, extremely annoyed at being told to sing, even if it was by a handsome, mask-wearing genius, merely screamed irritably, at so high a pitch that the ornate torches all shattered, leaving the golden fists to wring themselves angrily after the retreating couple.

Suddenly, and rather undramatically, they arrived at the Phantom's lair. The Phantom swiftly ran across the lair to a corner, where he swept off his cloak in a move that might have been both hypnotic and impressive where it not for the fact he got impossibly entangled within it. Christine watched her tutor writhe on the ground, looking neither handsome nor dashing, very impassively. No, actually, I lie. She blinked once.

The Phantom, having rid himself of the suffocating cloak, ran back over to her and positioned himself in front of her. Drawing himself to his full height, he raised his head, gave Christine a seductive look and sang:

"_You are sixteen going on seventeen, baby, you're on the brink. _

_Better beware, be canny and careful, la la la la laaaa!"_

Getting out his Punjab lasso, the Phantom proceeded to dance across his lair similar to the bowler hat wearing Broadway production stars, complete with a cheesy grin.

"_You need someone older and wiser telling you what to dooooooo,_

_I am seventeen going on eighteen, I'll take care of you!"_

Christine seemed to come out of her trance rather abruptly with this performance, looking mightily amused and horrified. "Erm, Angel, are you sure that's the right musical?"

The Phantom stopped and reflected. "Oh yeah…okay then."

He then re-positioned himself in front of, drawing himself to his full height, throwing back his head, giving Christine a seductive look and sang:

"_Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation,_

_Darkness wakes and stirs imagination,_

_Silently the senses abandon their defenses..._ No I'm sorry. That's just put the whole thing off. I can't sing it now."

So that was that.

Christine, realizing that no amazing and hypnotic song was to ensue, began to wander around the lair, commenting over her shoulder, "Nice place you got here." The Phantom waved a dismissive hand, murmuring incoherently with anger and shame into his other hand with every expression of failure of his most well-known song.

Finding a random curtain stretched across an alcove in the rock, Christine called out, "What's this?" and pulled it back to reveal….the dreaded mannequin that always causes so much alarm! The loud thump as Christine hit the rock floor went unnoticed by the Phantom, still brooding over his failure and wondering why he could have gotten such radically different musicals mixed up. He turned around, saying, "Hey, Christine…?" and noticed her on the floor. Immediately he went into another brooding session, moaning that if only "Music of the Night" had gone as it should have, he would have been there to catch her. "But no!" he cried. "Nothing ever works for me does it? Deformed at birth, taken by gypsies, looking radically younger and less impressive than my musical counterparts e.g. Michael Crawford!"

Finally, he noticed that Christine was not adding to the gothic décor of his lair and he dumped her in his swan bed with a sigh, not noticing that somewhere between the journey to the lair and arriving, that she was wearing enough black eyeshadow and dark makeup to imitate a raccoon and succeed so well that not even the raccoons themselves would know the difference. He pulled on the tassel, which not only brought down the many layers of black curtains, but also half of the wall.

Upon seeing this, and himself covered in white dust, he went off again, lamenting his bad fortune in the world and how if he had been crooning softly the last note of "Music of the Night" he would have pulled the tassel lightly and hypnotically, as it had to be pulled. How terrible! Even the previously evil laughing voices murmured murmurs of sympathy toward that poor man.

Finally the Phantom noticed that his entire lair had been covered in toilet paper. It was quite remarkable because he was brooding at the time. Perhaps he noticed it when his feet got tangled in a particularly thick part of the web of toilet paper and he tripped and fell on his face. Running it through his hands he suddenly had an epiphany! This is how it went:

"It's so soft…"

And that was it. Nothing extraordinary about that really, no wondering about whom put it there, nothing.

The Phantom went and sat at his gothic dresser, so caught up in his reflection and possible new songs that he failed to notice two intruders. But we can't really fault him for that because he's such an amazing singer, engineer, composer and a whole host of other things unlike Raoul who is simply a fop.

The two pyromaniacs knelt down beside the swan bed, which, surprisingly was still covered in toilet paper. One pyromaniac on either side – the taller dressed in large black robe similar to what she had designed for the Grim Reaper (that guy had no fashion sense) before she killed him and took his job, with large sunglasses and the not so tall dressed in a tight fitting black costume with various gadgets, dynamite sticks and a grenade. Oh and a packet of matches. It was perfect for sneaking into schools and other government buildings so one could blow them up or burn them down. They rose slowly, at the same time, until their eyes (or where there eyes should be) were just above the bed. Overall it was a very dramatic scene though Christine wouldn't know because she was out cold.

Taking advantage of the situation Death (the one in robes) and Destruction (the one with the matches) each took out a permanent marker and drew designs all over Christine's face, neck and arms. Said victim didn't even twitch so she might have been dead…oh wait she's breathing…damn. Where did that pillow go? Dis they even have permanent markers back then? Who cares!

Now on first glance the toilet paper appears to be simply strewn around randomly but if you look closer you'll find that it is also strewn over the most flammable objects. Nifty, ya? It's all part of Death's and Destruction's brilliant plan!

Standing at the starting point, Death and Destruction laid out a wire that connected to the timer. They both laughed evilly and, amzingly, were not discovered which is quite a feat because their evil laughs tend to be loud and tended to echo in enclosed spaces...but the point is they weren't discovered. If you could see the smiles on their faces you'd be quite scared – these two would do anything to anyone so they can take over the world or just because it'll be funny. I strongly suggest that if you see them walking down the street that you run and hide as far away as you can. Not that it'll do any good if they've decided they don't like you but one can always try.

They quickly scampered over to the other side of the lake and dramatically pressed the green button on the timer. They glanced at each other, then back to the island where Christine was still asleep and Erik was still brushing his wig.

The spark was getting closer and closer to the paper.

Death and Destruction turned and ran! They dived around the nearest corner and waited for the roar that would signify that the Phantom's lair was on fire. As it so happened, all they heard was a "Pffffffffffffffft…"

Their eyebrows furrowed and they looked very dangerous, even more dangerous than usual. They poked their heads around the corner to see what had gone on. What had ruined their perfect plan! Their eyes widened; Death and Destruction couldn't believe what they saw!

The Phantom was standing up, surveying his lair. Everything was smoking and singed; nothing was burning, there were no flames! It seemed the toilet paper burned so fast that it merely singed the area near it without setting I on fire.

The Phantom himself was smoking and slightly singed so Death and Destruction bid a hasty retreat. As they left Destruction said to Death, "We should take the gondola!" Death just sighed and shook her robed head.

While all of this was going on beneath the Opera things were a little bit different in the actual Opera. Everyone was running around trying to find the elusive Christine Daae and Raoul stood outside her door ever hopeful.

"_Christine,"_ he sang, _"what are you doing?"_

There was no reply.

"I know, you want to be absolutely beautiful when we go out for dinner, childhood sweethearts reunited after all these years!" or so he thought, "Alright, Christine my darling, I don't mind waiting!"

Raoul, being the fop that he is continued to wait outside her door, leaning on the frame in an attempt to look charming. Madame Giry watched him from the alcove near the door. He had failed to notice her after more than half an hour, even when she coughed loudly. Raoul thought the statue was coughing and kept asking it if it wanted a butter menthol. Madame Giry had given up and resigned herself to making sure Raoul didn't turn into another of the bodies beneath the Opera. Not that she could do anything to stop the Phantom and his amazing Punjab lasso but one can always try.

* * *

Rightio – that's it as far as I can tell, at least for now… 

Remember please review! Destruction is losing her voice and feels absolutely miserable. She'd like some reviews to cheer her up if you don't mind. Oh and Death would like some reviews too – we both feel terribly unloved…

Until next time: **Death and Destruction, Mistresses of the Dark**

PROPAGANDA!

_"Join the Legions of Terror. Meet interesting people. Kill them."_


	3. Chapter 3

Hello! We'd like to welcome our newest joint minion, **Music Angel no. 24601 **and all those who reviewed, namely **Gabi, Yami Wah and Yami Moh**!

But we want more reviews from randoms! Those who have read the story and yet not reviewed! I know because we have lots of hits but no reviews! Someone must find our story amusing as we bag the movie! Come on! You know you want to! REVIEW!

**Disclaimer**: _Grrness! We compare owning POTO like people who ice-skate on water: utterly impossible except for the delusional! And we are, indeed, delusional._

_This story is called:_

**Musical Escapades**

_But may also be known as:_

**In Which…Well, Not a lot Happens, Really, Unless you Count Christine Waking Up and Having a Slight Case of Amnesia, the Playing Monkey "in Persian Robes" Being Introduced, Bertie Finally having his Revenge, and the MASK BEING REMOVED! Insert shock, horror music played loudly and dramatically here Being a lot that Happens. But if, Of Course, you Do Believe So, Disregard Everything that Has Been Typed and Move On! Even if what Is Typed after This is Really, Exciting, Amusing or Controversial, you Must Disregard it All! No! Sorry, you Had your Chance! No…go Away….no…**

_RAOUL BASHING!_

_By the way, the song 'Up Shit Creek' to the tune of 'Uptown Girl' does NOT belong to Phantom of the Opera. It belongs to some of Death and Destruction's close personal friends/minions. Just thought we'd clear that up for you…!_

Christine awoke, rather suddenly and inexplicably. Nothing had really happened, like a large noise, or an earthquake, to wake her up, so really it must have been scripted. She also seemed to have accumulated quite a lot of make-up while asleep. How strange…Then the strange music box shaped like a monkey in Persian robes turned itself on, which would have been quite normal if someone had actually turned it on, but…they hadn't, so it looked kind of freaky. One might expect its eyes to glow a demonic red and it to cackle manically. But it didn't.

Christine picked up the monkey and began to shake it until the hypnotic music jolted and cut out and the ominous sound of several loose screws was heard instead. "What's inside?" Christine screamed in a frenzy of joy, like a child with a Christmas present. She tried to pry it open. "What's insssiiidddeee?" The monkey couldn't actually be opened and soon it went sailing through the air into the underground lake.

So, Christine, being of the more inventive and curious types in the world, pulled the dangling black tassel beside the bed. Nothing happened, because as we know, the tassel that was supposed to pull up the black curtain had already been broken by the Phantom. So she pulled again. And again. Still nothing happened. So she crawled unceremoniously underneath the black curtain and, as is common with opera singers, burst into song for no particular reason.

"_I remember there was mist,_

_Swirling mist upon a vast glossy lake…_

_There were candles all around and on the lake there was a gothic boat…_

_And in the gothic boat there was a man…"_

After those stirring and illuminating lyrics, she promptly fell into the lake. Christine screamed and began splashing around, choking on a lot of water and…various other floating items. The Phantom, seated at his organ in a stylish burgundy dressing-gown, turned his head and watched the soprano flounder around like a giant fish in a slutty night gown. Then he turned back and concentrated hard on drawing musical signs on his piece of paper, playing talentedly with the other hand. Christine crawled up out of the lake, dragging herself across to the organ. The Phantom fully turned around from playing the glorious notes coming out of the organ, taking both hands off the keys. The glorious music kept playing in a subtle yet electronic way.

"_Who was that shape in the shadows...?_

_Whose is the face in the mask…?"_

Yes my friends, opera singers can still sing while crawling on their diaphragms towards masked madmen. Isn't it amazing? Christine began to clamber to her feet, using a conveniently-placed burgundy dressing-gown to do so. Meanwhile, completely oblivious, the Phantom thundered out the Overture on his organ, clearly enjoying himself in a slightly insane sort of way. Christine grabbed the Phantom's mask for the last ascent to standing…and it came off.

"Whoops!" said Christine calmly, as though she hadn't just pulled away a half porcelain mask to reveal a deformed face of a paranoid musical genius. The Phantom, however, reacted in a more horrified and surprised way.

"_Damn you! You little prying Pandora! You little demon- this is what you wanted to see? Curse you! You little lying Delilah! You little viper- now you cannot ever be free!"_

Christine mouthed the names 'Pandora' and 'Delilah' in a puzzled fashion and looked behind her to see if there was someone else he could possibly be addressing. Staggering down the steps, the Phantom collided with a candlestick, knocking it over and then tripping over it.

"_Damn you…curse you…"_

He paused for a moment, lying face-down on the ground before rising rather suddenly.

"_Stranger than you dreamt it…can you even dare to look or bear to think of me, this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly…secretly…Christine…"_

"Yes?" asked Christine, zoning back in with a very acceptable moved and teary-eyed expression. The Phantom seemed convinced, at any rate. So he continued.

"_Fear can turn to love- you learn to see, to find the man behind the monster, this…repulsive carcass, who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly…secretly…Oh, Christine…"_

He collapsed onto the floor where she was lying for some obscure reason and held out his hand for the mask. Rather than giving it back to the poor angsty man, Christine put it on, ran over and grabbed his special swirly cloak from the corner and snatched a wig from beside the gothic mirror. She then raced to the organ and struck a few chords.

The Phantom raised an eyebrow, before deciding the poor girl must be traumatized. "We must return. Those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you." Christine stared uncomprehendingly at him.

He sighed. 'Get in the boat. And give me those!"

Again he held out his hand for his outfit, without which he was simply not the Phantom. Christine decided to exclaim rather randomly at that particular moment:

"_I am the Phantom of the Opera! Daaaa da da da da daaaa!"_

She swirled her swirly cloak and flashed a grin.

For the next couple of minutes, we shall leave the Phantom to chase Christine around his lair trying to get his stuff back…and return to the scene where they are both safely in the boat, heading back to the secret passage, in a way that is not nearly as dramatic as the way they arrived. The Phantom was poling, Christine was sitting in the bow and looking vacantly into the distance….all we need is a bit of a song…

"_We'reeeeeeee……"_

The Phantom started cheerfully. Christine didn't join in or seem to recognise the song so he continued on his own.

"_We're up Shit Creek, without a paddle…"_

And it was true. The cool gothic pole was drifting away, even as the Phantom was trying to make subtle grabs at it without Christine noticing. Then he noticed something else.

"_And the boat's got a leak…"_

This time Christine did turn around. But by this stage, the Phantom was lying full-stretch in the boat, with one elbow firmly plugging the hole and his head resting on it in a relaxed fashion.

"_What are you doing Angel? Shouldn't you be poling in the gothic boat?"_

The Indian voice once again arrived to debate the matter of the boat.

"It's a gondola, you silly little girl!"

"_Gothic boat!"_

"Gondola!"

"_Gothic boat!"_

"Gondola!"

"_Gothic boat!"_

The unrecognisable yet strangely familiar voice decided to offer its opinion again.

"Well I think it's a canoe! CANOE I SAY!"

Another unrecognisable yet strangely familiar voice appeared, or rather, was heard.

"Looks a bit like one of those Red Indian longboats to me."

"They're canoes."

"No, longboats are distinctly different to canoes."

"They're all canoes in the end."

"What about the _Titanic_? Was that a canoe in the end?"

"No, it was half a ship at the bottom of the ocean… It looked a bit like a canoe."

"No, it didn't."

"Yeah it did."

"What about pirate ships? Are they canoes?"

"No, but they had canoes _on _them. For boarding other ships."

"Yes, yes, that's true."

Meanwhile, in the background,

"It's a gondola!"

"_Gothic boat!"_

Finally the Phantom put a rather effective end to the conversation by saying, as a continuation of his long abandoned song,

"_We're being stalked by an anaconda…_

_His name is Pauline and he's actually quite nice once you get to know him..."_

And sure enough, behind them, swam an anaconda, a really digitally-enhanced and computer-generated type of one which you see in so many movies nowadays. Christine screamed and huddled in the centre of the boat. The Phantom, on the other hand, laughed and dangled his hand over the edge of the boat, inches from the snapping fangs of Pauline.

"_Once you get past those razor sharp teeth!" _The Phantom sang, pointing out the razor sharp teeth that the anaconda bore, _"And those malicious eyes, they're quite like mine don't you think?"_

He turned to look at Christine, who instead of offering her opinion was miming poling. It seemed she still thought she was the Phantom. Then, in the corner of his eye, the Phantom noticed a familiar shape galloping along beside the canal.

"_Oh look there's Bertie,_

_Lolling his tongue in revenge at me!_

_I wonder why?_

_Walls don't hurt that much!_

_Or do they? I guess I can't say!_

At this moment Bertie opened his mouth and made a scream that was a mix of a moose sound and the mating call of a koala. It went a bit like this: "Hrraaaaaaggggh…!"

"_I think he let Pauline out,_

_Past the barbed wire, electric fences, force field and the combination lock,_

_That only Bertie and I know the code to!_

_Where's my elephant rifle?"_

Death sat next to Destruction in the rafters, trying to hide the bulging shape of an elephant rifle under her cloak. She giggled innocently, but Destruction was no fool. Well, some of the time she was, but not this time!

"Did you steal the Phantom's elephant rifle?"

Death was indignant, "Of course not! Who do think I am?"

"Elephant rifles are hard to find theses days! You've got to take the opportune moments for what they are! Opportunities!"

Death nodded, "Okay." Death, who was being rather defensive, held the rifle in only one hand, now that she was reassured of its safety, instead of hugging it to her body and groping for her scythe. "When we have the opportune moment, we'll blast this through the speakers!"

She motioned to an object that lay hidden by shadows. Death looked at for a moment, then back to Destruction. As if on cue, they cackled simultaneously .This was, for further reference, extremely frightening. And it would have been more so, had Destruction not fallen off the rafters into the water.

Christine, thoroughly frightened now that the anaconda was nibbling the side of the boat/gondola/Indian longboat and the Phantom was splashing around in the water-filled boat, she began to sing, because it was whatOpera singers tend to do a lot,

"_I'm getting quite scared,_

_What fell into the water back there?_

_It sounded quite large! _

("Hey!" shouted Destruction with anger)

_I want to go back to the O-per-aaaaa!"_

The boat bumped into a dock of sorts suddenly and she was flung into a nearby stone wall.

Death chuckled, amused, then recovered with, "I mean, how terrible."

Destruction just threw a spork at her.

The Phantom, being extremely dashing and charming gentlemen with all sorts of chivalry- like things, carried her up the stairs. When he reached the mirror he realized that he didn't have an extra arm to open the door with, so he used his foot, hopping about trying to get the mirror open. It was quite difficult due to Christine's weight and he teetered on the edge a bit. However, he managed to save himself and laid the unconscious and extremely heavy Christine on her bed. He then backed down the stairs behind the mirror in a really dramatic, graceful way that Raoul couldn't even comprehend. Or imitate. Or...he wasn't actually in the room at the time, so who cares what Raoul thinks?

Unfortunately for him, at that moment Death and Destruction wanted to makehis exitmore dramatic. The tunes of the Overture blasted really loudly through the speakers and the Phantom jumped and looked about with surprise and anger. He stepped back, on what is believed to be air. Then again it could be a very weak stair because he fell back and rolled down the stairs in a very ungainly fashion to the thunderous chords of the Overture.

_Now review! We have hits, many hits in fact, but they're just not quite as rewarding as a nice juicy review to sink our fangs into…tastes like chicken…(licks lips)_

_No seriously! About the reviews, not the chicken taste…_

_We for one have never eaten a review so we cannot tell._

_**Death and Destruction, Mistresses of all Slippery Substances People Just Happen to Slip Over On…and Bananas**_


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